


little one

by LostChanceTo



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Dirty Talk, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Restraints, Size Kink, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Whirl Calls Cyclonus Little One, but not really, how do you tag smut guys, just kinda, lapslock, mentioned - Freeform, not enough to bondage so uH, tailgate and swerve are there for 0.2secs at the beginning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-15
Updated: 2019-03-15
Packaged: 2019-11-18 07:47:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18116423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LostChanceTo/pseuds/LostChanceTo
Summary: whirl screws cyclonus into the berth





	little one

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ToodleBoog](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToodleBoog/gifts).



tailgate finished tying the knot on the rope and smiled at whirl.

 

“there you go! one tied up seeker for whirlybird of the lost light!” whirl snickered and lowered his head to pressed it to tailgates in his version of a kiss. cyclonus, charge already beginning to heat up his circuits, watched them eagerly.

 

“have fun with swerve,” whirl said. tailgate nodded and bounced over to where his best friend forever stood, staring at cyclonus with a building charge of his own. 

 

“have fun with cyclonus,” tailgate said with a giggle. he blew cyclonus a kiss and, with another very satisfied glance at cyclonus, hurried out to have a fun night of drinking and playing.

 

cyclonus couldn't say that he was jealous. he and whirl hadn’t gotten much time together at all in ages - cyclonus hadn’t been able to spend time with tailgate either, too busy sparring and teaching various mechs and femmes about the way of the sword and the culture of his people.

 

drift had been a great help, but the days left cyclonus exhausted and sore. sometimes he’d come back to the room smelling of ozone and lubricant, so he knew Tailgate and Whirl still spent time together.

 

and by time he meant time spent fragging, which is what cyclonus was supposed to be doing. he pulled himself out of his thoughts to find whirl standing still, staring at him unblinking.

 

cyclonus raised an eyeridge. whirl, after another couple seconds, each dragging on endlessly, took a couple steps forwards. he stopped a couple painful steps from the edge of the berth.

 

“i haven't gotten to get down and dirty with you for so long that i kinda don't know what to do with myself,” he said. cyclonus bared his sharp teeth.

 

“let me make it easier then,” he said, “come here and kiss me.” whirl cocked his head and suddenly he was close, helm mere inches from cyclonus’, and it was only millions of years of self control that stopped cyclonus from flinching back.

 

“i thought,” whirl drawled. cyclonus knew he had an external voxbox somewhere on him, like the one tailgate had on his neck. it was just a matter of finding it and licking at it to get whirl revved up. “that the rope meant i was in control.”

 

“then prove it,” cyclonus dropped his voice an octave and let the words rumble with the strength of his engine, a sound he knew screamed power. whirl answered with a growl of his own - he let himself be provoked. 

 

kissing whirl was different from kissing tailgate or swerve. cyclonus couldn't achieve any suction with his hollow cheeks, but he could nip and kiss and lick at the edge of whirl’s optic casing, at the little prongs that stuck out beneath.

 

whirl leaned away to drag the prongs of his helm along cyclonus’ plating, sharp metal scratching and tearing at the purple paint. cyclonus shuddered. whirl’s optic darted up to him. then he continued his way down down down to cyclonus’ closed panels. whirl nuzzled against it.

 

“i’m going to ask you once,” whirl said, “and only once. open.”

 

cyclonus was going to make this difficult.

 

he turned his head away from whirl. whirl hummed in displeasure, the vibration of it working its way along his neck and helm. whirl pressed himself down and against cyclonus’ panels. he was going to get worked up, cyclonus already knew, and then he’d drift more into the territory of fighting and -

 

well. 

 

whirl fragged hardest when he was pissed off.

 

cyclonus contained a grin as whirl backed off. warmth curled around his spark as whirl looked at him, this way and that, as though it would help him figure out a way to convince cyclonus to open his panels. cyclonus was very,  _ very _ determined to make this a challenge for his beloved.

 

whirl’s head dropped right back down to cyclonus’ panel, electricity flickering over it. he rammed it against cyclonus’ crotch.

 

cyclonus arched and twisted away from the sting of electricity, overriding request after request to open his panels. his spike strained against its housing. it had been far, far too long since the last time cyclonus had paid it any attention, if the enthusiasm with which it responded to a little electric shock meant anything.

 

whirl followed him, large claws clamping down on cyclonus’ thighs. whirl crackled with charge. cyclonus tried tried tried to pull far enough away for it to stop affecting him, but it was a losing battle. his hud was flooded with requests.

 

eventually his system gave up on higher processing and snapped the panels back for him.

 

lubricant dumped from his valve as his spike pressurized faster than it ever had before. whirl let out an excited whoop and reached over to the side. he pulled out a vibrating toy from the assortment laid out across the berth. cyclonus gasped as whirl pressed the toy against his spike.

 

he struggled to regain any semblance of control. whirl dragged the toy down cyclonus’ spike, slowly, painfully, cyclonus refusing to let his hips buck up into the touch. his spike had other ideas. it pulsed with painful pleasure and threw tangles of sparks into the air.

 

cyclonus tried to twist away and whirl lowered the toy. the metalmesh of his valve constricted at the light touch of the toy, still vibrating away. cyclonus shook his head and heaved his hips back and away from whirl, but large claws caught him and held him down and still. cyclonus tried to kick out, to pull away, but - but -

 

the toy sunk a couple inches into his valve.

 

cyclonus bucked up, presence of mind drifting away despite his millenia of training. whirl’s engine roared in delight as cyclonus struggled under the growing weight of his arousal. if his valve had been dripping before, it was now a sopping mess, over lubricated in anticipation of a spike - one that cyclonus’ valve was already expanding for.

 

he wiggled his hips as whirl shoved the toy deeper inside. whirl looked so good there, between his legs, between his thighs, touching what only three other bots had - why had cyclonus wanted to resist again?

 

condensation covered cyclonus’ plating. tailgate liked it hot and humid in their shared room, despite the raised possibility of rust infection. cyclonus let it be becuase he loved tailgate.

 

whirl let it be so he could see _ just how worked up _ he could get his partners.

 

the room smelled like ozone and moist, wet air, the tang of metal and the dull not-scent of lubricant and coolant. cyclonus was leaking all over the berth. whirl thrust the toy in and out of him, pushed farther each time. cyclonus calipers clenched eagerly around it, anticipating something much bigger and hotter.

 

it would never cease to amaze cyclonus just how quiet whirl was in berth.

 

his cooling fans roared, his engine rattled against his internals, his spark thrummed loud and clear through his armor, and yet his vocalizer was muted. cyclonus, now that he knew this was normal, didn’t mind it much. it made the sounds he could pull from whirl just that much sweeter.

 

so when whirl slowed and pulled the toy free, when he let out the quietest moan as he watched the toy stretch cyclonus’ walls, a warm rush of adoration and lust poured over cyclonus and made his legs twitch wider apart, welcoming.

 

whirl set the toy aside, careful and organized as ever, and lined himself up. he held up cyclonus’ legs on either side of him, spike out of sight - mutilated, covered in ill-healed gouges and precise sensor-damaging surgical incision -, cockpit puffed out and closer to cyclonus’ neck than he would ordinarily like.

 

whirl pushed in, slow, steady, fighting cyclonus’ valve for every inch it could be convinced to give up. cyclonus, despite himself, dropped his jaw, over lubricating from everywhere, optics off, head thrown back, horn tips pressed to the headboard. his calipers expanded and contracted, eager to be filled, to be  _ full _ , to hold whirl close and keep him there. 

 

when whirl settled, his guns cleared the sides of cyclonus’ neck by bare millimeters. cyclonus onlined his optics to see the steep slope of whirls cockpit, the shiny yellow glass of it, where it ended, where his singular optic peered down in the familiar narrow pinprick of lust.

 

it made him look angry. it made him look  _ sexy _ and suddenly cyclonus remembered why he was struggling in the first place.

 

cyclonus tried to move his head, his neck, but there wasn't enough room. whirl lowered his own head and pressed to rim of it to cyclonus lips.

 

a kiss.

 

cyclonus’ mouth fell open for a heavy breath of air as whirl pulled back, his cockpit following the rest of him, then he slammed back inside, deep, the edge of his cockpit shoving into cyclonus’ throat.

 

cyclonus struggled to swallow the lubricant spilling from his lips and cheeks as whirls own body choked him out. wet and hot and  _ messy _ and cyclonus’ fans screamed with the strain.

whirl pulled out with a frustrated groan. cyclonus gasped as whirl grabbed him, claws slipping against condensation slick metal. cyclonus struggled,  _ primus _ , he struggled, but without his servos to help he couldn't break free.

 

whirl flipped him onto his stomach, servos caught under him, and shoved back in. cyclonus writhed under him, mouth open, oral lubricant drooling all over the berth as whirl sunk into him. 

 

whirl pulled his aft up, his legs up so that one was stretched high into the air and used it as leverage. cyclonus couldn't think past the  _ hotheavyfull  _ of it, of the press of whirls cockpit and spike and heavy duty claws.

 

whirl set a brutal pace. cyclonus’ claws dug deep furrows into the metalmesh of the berth, struggling to retain any control from the whirlstorm at his back.

 

whirl let the leg drop and cyclonus tried to pull it under him, to support the arch of his back struts, but whirl was already pressing down on his lower back. sex drunk and processor failing him, cyclonus followed the movement.

 

that thick, delicious spike slid right back in, lubricant squelching, and cyclonus keened as whirl switched speeds again. long slow strokes, the agonizingly careful rub of whirls claws against his anterior node, the tips of whirls guns lightly dragging along cyclonus’ back in the act of leaving trails of danger and electricity and lust.

 

“pleasepleaseplease” cyclonus’ voxbox spat static around the words as he tried to roll back against whirl, tried to speed him up, and cyclonus felt young again, young and spry and eager for a nice hard fuck. 

 

“shh, little one,” whirl muttered, voice perfectly clear. cyclonus gave a full body shudder at the name, burning charge rising almost impossibly harder. whirl paused, then, with a careful claw around cyclonus bonds, pulled him up. “do you like being called that?”

 

“frag me,” cyclonus gasped around the wary clump of embarrassment curling around his spark.

 

“you do!” whirl slammed cyclonus back in the berth and cyclonus tried not to let the show of strength do anything for him. “do you like being small, cyclonus? do you like being little?”

 

“please,” was all cyclonus could manage, frame trembling, “please.”

 

whirl pulled out and cyclonus gasped and shuddered, calipers trying desperately to pull whirl’s nice heavy weight back inside him, back on top of him. whirl turned cyclonus over and pressed his head as close to cyclonus’ as he could get.

 

“you want me to treat you like you’re small?” whirl asked quietly. cyclonus shuddered, plating rattling, pressed closer just to get the heat of whirl’s plating on his shoulder again. “want me to call you little one?”

 

“yes” cyclonus said. whirl’s spike was back inside in an instead. cyclonus threw his head back as whirl forced him to stay in place, voxbox letting out an undignified screech.

 

“little one,” whirl snarled, “itty bitty little cybertronian. so small i have to fight to get my spike into your tight valve.” cyclonus thrashed under his punishing pace, lubricant and coolant seeping from his valve and spike and mouth, claws scratching uselessly. “i bet you’re such a slut for size differences - that’s why you went for tailgate right? so small and tiny i bet his spike fits between your fingers like a cigar.”

 

cyclonus arched at the image of it, tailgates pretty pretty spike, small and blue and white and covered in pretty little biolights, so small against his claws

 

“i bet you think thats hot as fuck. you know what’s hotter?” cyclonus’ hips bucked, optics screwing shut as whirl screwed him. “maximus ambus. bet you’d love to have his cock in you. he makes you look so tiny. i bet he could use you as a frag toy and you wouldn’t even complain. i bet you love being manhandled, right?”

 

“yes!” cyclonus sobbed “yes!”

 

“good bot,” whirl hissed, and that was the end for cyclonus.

 

overload washed over him with the strength of an ocean, encouraged and pushed along by whirl’s vast strength, by the continued brutality of his pace. cyclonus thrashed and screamed and came and came and came until there was no more coolant in him, and still electricity crawled over his frame.

 

cyclonus twisted, overstimulated now, but still too small and too tied up to escape and the thought just sent him into another overload, just as loud, just as messy, whirl groaning as the shocking cold of coolant spilled from his spike and filled cyclonus to the brim.

 

he came down slowly, to whirl’s concerned mumbling, punctuated by shaking claws trying to undo the knot on the rope that held cyclonus hands together. cyclonus didn't have the energy to do more than just shift to accommodate his attempts.

 

finally finally they were removed and cyclonus let his servos fall to his sides as he stared up at whirl. whirl glanced around then carefully nuzzled at the soaking wet sides of cyclonus’ face, at his neck, his helm and chest. cyclonus recognized the attempt for what it was, pulled whirl up to thoroughly kiss the lower rim of his optic casing.

 

“you really like being small, huh?” whirl said. cyclonus nodded weakly. “huh. would never have expect that. did you like the dirty talk? i’ve been practicing.”

 

“you did very well,” cyclonus pushed past hypersensitive fangs. “i enjoyed myself” whirl beamed at him in his own way, eye curled up and biolights flickering in the dark.

 

“you aint too bad yourself” whirl said cheerfully. “i already called legs, hell be here to help put you back together in a minute. you’ve got the biggest, shittiest grin on your face.”

 

cyclonus raised a trembling servo to his faceplates and - yeah. 

 

cyclonus was beaming too.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading, don't forget to leave me a kudos!!


End file.
